


A Shot in the Dark

by FrozenParadigm



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Civilian Mark, Fluff, Jack's kinda emotionally distant, M/M, Mark's a loving goofball that's scared out of his wits rn, Markiplier - Freeform, Mercenary Jack, Pining, Septiplier - Freeform, Will add tags as the story progresses, cautious Mark, jacksepticeye - Freeform, quiet jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 23:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenParadigm/pseuds/FrozenParadigm
Summary: Jack is a contracted sniper for taking out MarkSnipers use fantastical integration to stay awake for 72 hours straight at times, where they insert themselves into various scenarios with the target in order to maintain their focus.Jack is forced to do this multiple times, as Mark knew not to poke his head outside anywhere he was moved. Between each move, Jack begins to do his own research on his target, and eventually the scenarios turn into of him and Mark together. When Mark finally takes a chance and steps outside for fresh air on his balcony, Jack realizes he can't take the shot. Instead, Jack goes under and begins to go for his original contractor.Mark starts returning feelings somewhere along the line.





	1. Target Aquired

**Author's Note:**

> Snjsakfnsa this is my first published fic, and I made my friend kinda proofread it, so I hope there's no major errors!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy thisssss~

* * *

_The Irishman found himself giggling like an idiot as he blasted the other’s character across the screen._

_“No that’s bullshit!” the brunette yelled as he slammed his controller down on the sofa, “That wasn’t supposed to hit me!”_

_“Come on, just admit it. I’m better!” he said as he laughed._

_“No, I refuse! This game is just bullshit!” the other groaned as he laid back into the couch._

_“I’m better,” he said, giggling as he playfully punched the brunette in the shoulder._

_“No. Absolutely not!” the other huffed._

_Before he could respond, a small static sound permeated the place._

_“…Target sighted…” said the voice of his agent._

 

* * *

 

 

_“Target sighted... “_

Jack opened his eyes slowly, and drifted from his daydream back to reality as his comm piece sounded. He coughed lightly, indicating that he had received the message.

_“Position is confirmed. Two blocks to your west. Third story apartment above a laundromat. Pretty generic. Just says laundromat on a large yellow sign.”_

He clicked his tongue this time as an acknowledgement, and stood up from his seat in the coffee shop. As he walked out the door, he disposed of his long-empty black coffee cup. He breathed in the cold November air, and adjusted his glasses that had slipped down to the tip of his nose since. Guess he was a bit too hasty in trying to formulate his disguise this time. He turned and faced the glass window of the coffee shop to observe himself. He wore a decently fitted brown faux leather jacket, some faded dark-blue jeans, completed with a deep blue beanie and classic black converse. Though his comm piece was small, the beanie helped to further conceal it in case anyone close enough would be able to notice otherwise. He gave his pants a quick little brush-down and started towards where he left his equipment.

Jack walked at a brisk pace down the streets of Queens, shivering slightly at the cold weather. At least it wasn’t snowing. He turned a corner, coming face to face with a street performer playing the guitar. He nodded to the performer lightly, who gave a wink in return and stopped playing. The performer turned and handed Jack a second guitar case. Jack whispered a thank you and strapped the case to his back, and quickly continued on his way to his destination.

Once he spotted the laundromat just a bit further down the street, Jack slowed to a stop. He looked around, spotting a bus station, and walked over to stand underneath it. He scanned his surrounding briefly, noting a small Italian restaurant on the opposing corner the laundromat was on, along with a small bookstore next to it. Closing his eyes, Jack let his surroundings speak to him. He heard the ringing of a bell, likely tied to the bookstore’s entrance. Pigeons cooed in the distance, along with the occasional fluttering of wings. The sound of footsteps and indistinguishable chatter resonated quietly around him. Without opening his eyes, the Irishman drew in a deep breath. The pleasant smell of food, mixed with the slightest hint of detergent and gasoline permeated his nostrils.

Now refocused, Jack opened his eyes again, and looked at the building complex directly across from the laundromat. It was a small hotel of sorts, nothing too fancy. As he was thinking about how he would conceal the sound of his firearm from neighboring rooms, his comm piece sounded.

_“Room 322 is set up for you in the hotel. The walls have been soundproofed to try and minimize sound. The rest is up to you. You’re checked in as Cason Northrup.”_

Jack huffed in annoyance. The intel team could’ve told him sooner. At least already set up some stuff for him, making his job a bit easier. Waiting to take the shot wasn’t the hard part about his job. It always is the escaping part that’s difficult. Since there was often glass or some other medium between his rifle and his target, reducing the noise on his side simply wasn’t enough. Every time after a job, he always had to escape as inconspicuously as he could, all the while with his large guitar case in tow.

 

The Irishman walked to the front desk of the hotel, and put on a little smile. The receptionist smiled in return and spoke.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“Hey, I have a room reserved under Cason Northrup?”

The sound of clacking on a keyboard resounded momentarily as the receptionist typed away, confirming his reservation.

 “Can I see some I.D., sir?”

Jack pulled out his wallet and presented his “I.D.”

“… Alright, thank you very much. Here’s your key. Enjoy your stay!”

Jack smiled again at the receptionist before grabbing the keycard and hurried up the elevator. Once he reached the room, he set down his guitar case and opened it up. He smiled at his ebony guitar in the case. It was old, and there were numerous scratches on it. It was the one possession he always carried with him. Strumming his fingers across the strings briefly, he sighed. Time to get to it. The man pressed a little latch on the inner edge of the case, opening up the opposing end of the case, and revealing his rifle. He whistled a little tune as he put together his gun on the floor. He stood up from the ground and walked over to the window and peered out the curtain. Across the street was a 4-story apartment, with each window covered by stark white curtains. Jack propped his rifle near small hole in the window, and peered down the sights. He closed his eyes momentarily, and began to focus as he reopened his eyes again.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Could you hand me the car jack?” the brunette said as he looked up from the ground. His face was pressed to the ground, inspecting the bottom of the car._

_“Jack, the car jack,” he said, with a wry little smile, which prompted the Irishman to shoot him a glare for that stupid pun, if you could even call it that._

_He opened the trunk and retrieved the item, and also brought out the tool kit._

_“Thanks,” the brunette said as he positioned the car jack and began lifting._

_“So, how bad is it?” Jack asked._

_“Ehhh… nothing underneath is really fucked, but the tire’s got to be changed for sure,” Mark said as he knelt down next to one of the blown-out tires, and began to unscrew the bolts. Jack went to the trunk again to retrieve a spare tire this time._

_He set the spare down next to Mark, and knelt down next to him._

_“Can you change the oil just in case?” he heard the other speak._

_“Yeah sure,” Jack said as he went to the trunk once again, “10W30?”_

_“Yup that one.”_

_The Irishman brought the can of motor oil to the front of the car, and opened the hood. He wiped the sweat from his brow. It was real hot. The sun indicated that it was around midday. Jack turned his attention back to the car. He pressed his face down against the ground, and popped the plug, letting motor oil leak onto the dry dirt. Not really environmentally friendly, he mused, but he didn’t have another option right now. He pulled out the old filter, and replaced it with a new one. Then, he stood back up, again wiping his brow. The sound of clinking stopped momentarily, which piqued Jack’s interest. He looked over at where the brunette was, only to be met with the man shirtless, his t-shirt on the ground next to him as he knelt back down to the tire._

_Mark’s eyes met Jacks._

_“What, it’s really hot.”_

* * *

 

He blinked, breaking from his integration.

What was that just now? Jack’s brows furrowed, a bit concerned. He was broken out of his thoughts when in the corner of his eye, the curtains shuffled briefly for a moment.

_Movement._

Jack immediately trained his sights on where the curtain moved, but there was no further indication of activity. He huffed his cheeks a bit, thinking that his job would’ve been done by now. This was the eighth location his target had moved to since he started his job. This Mark guy was a stubbornly cautious son of a bitch. Jack had been on his trail for about four months now, and the closest he had gotten was the curtain shuffling that happened just a moment ago.

_Good. This means he’s running out of patience._

* * *

 

_“Put down the gun,” he heard the man say coolly._

_Mark was shaking in fear as he fumbled with the rifle. He was an engineer, not a soldier god damn it!_

_“I’ll let Thomas go if you just put down the gun,” the man said again._

_“Y-You first!” Mark stammered._

_Thomas struggled in futility against the unknown man. He was injured from the previous fight. Mark knew that his brother had to have a broken nose from the amount of blood dripping. He came to visit his brother for the holidays. Where did it go so wrong?_

_“I can’t do that,” the man simply said, “I trust you’ll put down the gun, unless you want me to blow Thomas’ brains out.”_

_Mark felt tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. His glance flicked back and forth between Thomas and the man. He could tell that Thomas didn’t want him to put down the gun. ‘Take the shot’ he saw his brother mouth._

_The brunette could hear the blood pounding in his head._

_“I’ll count to three,” he heard the man say._

_“One.”_

_He felt as though his chest was going to burst._

_“Two.”_

_Every limb was shaking. Oh god, were his legs going to give out?_

_“Three.”_

_The sound of a gunshot resounded through his ears._

* * *

 

_White._

Blinking a few times, the brunette stared forward.

_The ceiling._

Mark sat up slowly, peeling the sweat-soaked sheets off of him. He brought his palms to his face, and rubbed lightly.

_Not again._

He drew in a shaky breath. The brunette climbed off his bed and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, and splashed some cold water on his face. He looked in the mirror. There were dark bags under his eyes. He chuckled a bit.

_I look like shit._

It’s been some four months since his life was turned upside down. Mark turned and walked back to his bedroom, and removed the sheets. As he made his way across the small living room to put his sheets in the laundry, he eyed the curtains briefly. It had been so long since he took a peek at the outside world. Shaking his head, he continued and put his sheets and clothes in the washer.

Mark picked out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, still feeling flush from his nightmare. He sat on his bed and stared at his bare wall for a while before finally getting new sheets and fitting them to his bed. Once the task was done, he found himself in the living room, sitting on the couch. He sighed, staring blankly at the blank tv monitor. His eyes wandered to the curtains once again. It’d been what, a month since he moved to this location? He hadn’t a peek at the world since, under strict guidelines to remain hidden. The brunette chewed at his lip lightly, anxious to look out at the world around him. He felt like he was suffocating. Was he really living at all? Certainly didn’t feel like it. He rubbed his face in an attempt to clear his mind. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t had anything to eat yet. He sighed as he got up and walked to the kitchen, which was just a few feet away. Opening the fridge, the brunette observed what was left. He wasn’t really running low on food yet. Protection services kept him pretty well fed. Though it wasn’t too extravagant, it wasn’t bad either. Mark grabbed the jug of milk and set it on the counter as he looked for cereal in the pantry.

After eating, Mark took out his laundry from the washer and ran them through the dryer. He sat on the kitchen counter, not knowing what to do. This is what his life had been reduced to; simply existing. He felt something wet on the back of his hand. Was he crying? He wasn’t too sure. He bright his hand to his eyes and wiped, finding that he had indeed started crying. He slumped down to the floor, curling into a ball.

Eventually, Mark found himself sprawled on the kitchen floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, again.

_Fuck it._

He stood up abruptly, and started towards the living room. As he reached the sofa, he slowed his pace down. He was now a few feet away from the curtains. He was aware of his elevated heart rate. Holding his breath, he reached for the curtains. His heart was pounding now. He felt beads of sweat on his forehead as his hand reached for the edge of the curtains. His hand brushed the curtains. In a moment of panic, he ducked down beneath the window. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

_Why did I just do that?_

He breathed shallow breaths, trying to calm himself down. He sat there, panicked.

Finally, after a good while, he decided that he should move and try and do something. He crawled across the living room, in fear of disturbing the curtains. He had just put his life at risk. He was afraid. But a part of him felt alive again, even if it was just for a brief moment.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack blinked. How long had it been? There was absolutely no sign of his target since the brief curtain rustling. He pulled out his phone.

_‘Tuesday, November 12’_

He made a sour face. It’d been a full three days already. He sighed and laid his gun down.

_That stubborn fucker…_

Rubbing his eyes, the Irishman realized that he should probably get some food, and then get some rest. Dismantling his gun, he let out a large yawn. God was he tired.

_Probably should contact HQ._

He tapped on a small button on the back of his comm piece.

“No dice. He’s still got that stupid amount of self-control.”

There was a brief silence before a staticky voice sounded.

_“Acknowledged. Hold your position and continue observations until further notice.”_

“Got it.”

Jack switched off his mic, and placed his rifle back into his guitar case. He raised his arms into the air and stretched, clearing the stiffness in his muscles. He strapped his guitar case to his back, and headed out the door.

He walked down the street, looking for something that appealed to his appetite.

_Italian, Mexican, pizza… Nothing I want right now..._

The Irishman paused in front of a Korean restaurant, and looked at the menu.

_Huh. Chicken dumplings sound good._

Deciding to go with this restaurant, Jack ordered some takeout and headed back to his hotel. He was tired, but also hungry. The chicken dumplings were devoured in an instant, and Jack laid on his bed content with what he bought. Eventually, he forced himself to go take a quick shower before getting some shuteye.

He yawned as he laid down on the bed, his guitar-and-gun case safely tucked in the corner. He busied himself with some meditation, and quickly fell asleep.

_He’ll have to break someday. But until then…_

 

* * *

 

 

_‘Moving you again soon._

_\- Crank’_

Mark stared at the concealed message cleverly disguised within a rent statement. He let out the breath he had been holding when he saw the marking that indicated its origin. It was a relief that he was finally getting a change of scenery. He found himself smiling a little, something he hadn’t done in a while. The rest of his evening was a bit more cheerful than usual, and he slipped into his bed when nighttime came around. Sleep came to him easily that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is relocated, meanwhile Jack wrestles with some... feelings that he wasn't quite prepared to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol what's an update schedule?  
> Srry I've been insanely busy lately, but hopefully since I only have a few summer classes more will be posted soon!

Mark awoke to the sound of soft tapping at his door. The sequence of the knock indicated that it was from protection services.  He leapt up, feeling a rush of excitement. The brunette was so excited that he almost forgot to check through the door hole. Once he confirmed that it was Wade, he unlocked and unlatched the door.

“Hey buddy, how’s it been?” Wade asked.

“Stifling,” Mark said with a sigh of relief.

“Need any help packing?”

Mark shook his head, a small smile on his face as he let the man in. He did a little jog into his room, and pulled out his old duffle bag. Swiftly, he shoved what little belongings he had into the bag and swung it over his shoulders.

“You going out like that?” Wade asked with a small chuckle.

Mark looked down at himself and realized that he was still in his underwear, and laughed.

“Perfectly inconspicuous!” he said, pointing upwards in a silly manner.

Wade laughed and turned to sit in the living room. Mark quickly ran back into his room, and pulled on some pants, changed his shirt, and put on a black baseball cap. He walked back out and smiled. Knowing that he was ready, Wade got up and walked out, keeping Mark close by.

_Finally, I get to do something again._

Outside, there was a silver sedan waiting for them. It was designed to be plain as possible, but Mark knew that it’d been fitted with bulletproof windows. He recognized the driver, Bob, the driver assigned to him. Wade got into the passenger seat, and Mark entered the back seat.

“So, where to this time?” Mark asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Bob said, grinning. Mark would be concerned right now if Bob had not been his driver all the times he had been moved. “Just get yourself comfortable, and we’ll handle the rest,” Wade said.

The brunette huffed and sat back. He did trust the two, but he really wanted to know where he was going this time. Bob started the car, and pulled onto the road. Mark resigned to staring out the window and watching the scenery, absorbing every piece of scenery before he would be closed off from the outside world again.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack looked at his phone, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

_‘Target’s been moved. Unsure of new position. They moved during our dead time.’_

He typed back a quick acknowledgement before pocketing his phone. The Irishman scowled. Just what he needed. Another relocation.

_I could try to find where he’s going next, instead of just waiting around again._

He pulled back the curtains, and looked at the opposing apartment. That would be the first place to go.

 

Jack jiggled his tool in the lock, and opened the door with relative ease. He entered and closed the door behind him. Doing a quick sweep, Jack didn’t find anything of use, aside from a hoodie left in the dryer. He pulled it out and decided that he should take it just in case it would come in handy. After giving the apartment a final run-down, the Irishman left quietly, grumbling in discontent. He walked as fast as he could out of the complex without arousing suspicion, and headed back to his temporary apartment.

Once home, Jack sat down on his couch, and opened up his laptop. Grabbing his headphones on the table, he plugged them in and slipped them on. Tapping on his music folder, Jack opened a song and set the list to shuffle. He drummed to the beat of the song as he pondered what to do next. The apartment complex Mark appeared to not have a security system, but he knew that it would be cleverly disguised to draw minimal attention to the seemingly run-down place. He pulled out his phone and fired a quick text.

_‘Can you check the apartment for cameras? – J’_

It was a few seconds before his phone vibrated again.

_‘I’ll have a guy look into it later. About an hour? -F’_

Jack scowled. He wanted Felix to look at it, since he trusted him the most out of all the lackeys he ran with. Sighing, he quickly typed back a response acknowledging Felix. Sitting back further into the sofa, Jack pulled up Mark’s file again.

 

              _Mark Fischbach_

_27 – 5’10”_

_Electrical Engineer_

_Locations:_

_Tulsa, Oklahoma – Jun 23 - Jul 8_

_Buffalo, New York – Jul 9 - Jul 30_

_Glendale, Arizona – Jul 31 - Aug 13_

_Boise, Idaho – Aug 15 - Aug 29_

_El Paso, Texas – Aug 30 - Sep 25_

_Unknown – Sep 27 - Oct 3_

_Riverside, California – Oct 5 - Oct 17_

_Unknown – Oct 18 - Oct 20_

_New York City, New York – Oct 24 – present_

Jack rubbed his eyes. Going over Mark’s file didn’t really give him any lead on where he was being moved this time. Hell, there were even sometime where they couldn’t find him. Guess Homeland Security deserved more credit than he was giving them. Scowling harshly at his innocent computer, Jack let out a loud sigh. He needed to clear his mind. He leaned forward, putting his face into his palms, and closed his eyes. He breathed in.

_Coffee._

The pot he made earlier in the day still gave off the aromatic smell.

_Clean linen._

The couch was probably still pretty clean from how little he was “home.”

_Cologne?_

His jacket still carried the scent of the store he bought it from.

 

* * *

 

 

_The smell of coffee permeated his nostrils. He felt a dip in the cushion next to him. Jack opened his eyes, surprised to be met by Mark sitting next to him, holding two cups of coffee. The man had a warm smile on his face as he nudged one hand with the cup towards him._

_“Black, dark roast, just how you like it!”_

_The Irishman gave a small nod of gratitude as he accepted the cup. He felt Mark’s eyes on him for a moment, before the other man jumped up._

_“Oh shoot, I forgot to take out the sheets! I’ll be right back!”_

_With that, Jack watched the brunette disappear around the corner. He looked around, taking in his surroundings as he sipped on his sinfully bitter coffee. Several DVD’s were littered across the coffee table in front of the TV. Jack picked one up. It was ‘Captain America: The First Avenger.’ He put it down and looked at the others. They were all Avengers movies. Looks like Mark wanted an Avengers marathon._

_A muffled voice sounded from across the room, breaking Jack from his train of thought._

_“Could you help me out with these sheets?”_

_Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the other man, carrying a staggering amount of bedsheets. He set his coffee on the table and grabbed an arm full of sheets, to reveal Mark’s goofy smile behind._

_“Sniff them.”_

_Jack cocked an eyebrow and shot the dark-haired man a questioning glance._

_“They smell great!”_

_“What the fuck Mark.”_

_“Come on! Who doesn’t like the smell of clean sheets?”_

_Mark looked expectantly at him with large grin. Jack huffed and gave in. He brought the sheets to his nose and took a whiff. Yup, that’s clean linen alright._

_“Great right?”_

_Jack just scowled at the brunette._

_“Let’s put these away already,” he said as he headed town the doorway, with Mark in tail. The two folded the laundry and headed back to the living room. Jack sat down as Mark popped in the first disc. His eyes ran over the other man’s back. The tight white shirt that Mark was wearing wasn’t leaving much to the imagination._

_Wait a minute…_

_Before Jack could mentally slap himself, he felt Mark sit down next to him. Except Mark laid into Jack. The brunette’s back was to Jack’s side, slightly turned towards the screen. Jack could smell Mark’s cologne, sharp, but pleasant. The Irishman wanted to object, but instead decided to just let it slide._

_After a while, Mark ended up across Jack’s lap, and the two were engrossed in the movie. As an action scene ended, Jack glanced at Mark, only to be met by two warm chocolatey eyes staring fondly straight back. He glared for a moment, unsure of what the other was doing, and then returned his attention to the television. He almost jumped when he felt a hand gently caress his cheek. Looking down, he saw that Mark was drawing the back of his hand down his cheek._

_Mark’s mouth started to form words, but Jack couldn't quite make out what he was saying._

* * *

 

Jack’s eyes snapped open.

_What the fuck just happened?_

His scowl from earlier only deepened. He combed a hand through his hair as he huffed a sigh. The Irishman rubbed his face vigorously and stood up. The man quickly went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

_What is going on…_

He looked up and into the mirror, his scowl prominently plastered across his face. The Irishman brought his hands to his cheek and squished his face into an odd contortion.

_Sleep… Maybe that will help…_

 

* * *

 

 

Mark looked up abruptly, startled out of his dream about pancakes and wild unicorns. Bob must’ve noticed, because he spoke up.

“Sorry, hit a pothole.”

Mark waved him off and turned to look out the window, again absorbing all the scenery. Only difference was that there seemed to be more civilization now.  

“Were about an hour away now.”

Mark deflated a bit. It would mean that he would have to spend the next who knows whatever in hiding again. He whispered a quiet “okay” and laid his head down to rest on the window. He stared out at the trees, slipping into a daydream about his childhood. Careless, happy, and most of all… free. The plains they were passing reminded him of road trips he took as a kid. He felt somewhat… at ease. He knew he shouldn’t, with assassins hot on his trail, hiding in fear… But the passing scenery relaxed him, lulling him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_One…_

_Two…_

His arms were getting tired.

_Six…_

_Seven…_

This was what, his third time at the gym today?

_Eleven…_

_Twelve…_

Jack set the weights down on their racks. He plopped down on the bench where he left his water bottle, and took a swig. He pulled out his phone, and let out a little chuckle as he recognized the ping from his agent _._ About time. It’s been what, two weeks since Mark was relocated? The Irishman felt a little smile tug on his lips as he hastily went to the locker room to retrieve his belongings and change quickly. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling a bit giddy that the hunt was back on. God did he hate the downtime between relocations.

Quickly, he exited the gym and returned to his temporary apartment. He packed his belongings rapidly, and checked his phone again for the next location.

‘ _Cincinnati, Ohio’_

The Irishman’s brows furrowed. That was Mark’s hometown. Why would they relocate him to such a high-profile location? His phone sounded, alerting him to a new text from his agent.

_‘Got a black plane for you at Farmingdale Republic Airport. Your ride is arriving in 30 minutes.’_

He smirked. This airline wasn’t cheap, since it specialized in moving mercenaries, information brokers, and other shady figures like himself across the country, and this means that his contractor wanted him there as soon as possible. Also meant that he got to fly comfortably, a little luxury that he enjoyed. Jack smiled. He was getting close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for baring with meeeeeeeeeeeee I'll try my best to write more and not wait like 3 months before finishing :P
> 
> hhhh i try to make chapters longerrrrr I mean it's kinda picking up to the more interesting parts so I'm sure I'll be able to write longer chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark finally meets Jack in person!

_Home._

Mark mind surprised him. He blinked. They were on a street corner now, in a city. The diner… it was… the one his family frequented when he was young! The thought of his family immediately caused his eyes to water. He blinked away his tears, and started in a soft voice.

“Are we…are we in…”

He heard Wade chuckle.

“Yup. You’re home buddy.”

Mark couldn’t stop the tears this time. He was overwhelmed, extremely overwhelmed with everything he was feeling right now. He felt a nudge from something. Mark looked up, to be met with a box of tissues.

“Figured you might need these,” Wade said with a grin. Mark gratefully accepted.

The brunette vaguely heard Wade talking as he continued to cry tears of joy.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not going to be _home,_ home. But you’re in the city. There’s a little apartment that’s well guarded by us, and…”

Mark laughed through his tears, beyond happy that he was finally not going to be as lonely anymore. He didn’t even care if he had to stay inside his apartment here. Just knowing that he was back in the city that he grew up in as a child made him happier than he had been in a long time.

He was home.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack stretched and yawned. He had just left the plane, and entered the airport. They had touched down in Lunken Airport, in east Cincinnati. He didn’t have much with him, just his guitar case and a duffle bag with his little personal belongings. He was ushered through the metal detector in a more discreet section of the airport. He knew the agents here didn’t actually screen the luggage, as the airline pays quite a hefty sum to bypass it, along with some blackmail sprinkled in.

The Irishman passed “inspection” quite quickly, and was now on his way to his next living space. He had received little information regarding where Mark was located, but there was a large amount of covert defense from the government in the area. This was going to be difficult. He had received word that Mark had some external privileges. This was Mark’s home turf, meaning that Jack was at a disadvantage.

“Alright, here we are.”

Jack gave a curt nod and left the car. He took in his surroundings. In front of him stood a house, small, but charming. The house was set near the top of a gentle hill, with a picket fence that one would only describe as cute. Small bushes wrapped halfway around the house, now barren during the winter. It… reminded him of his home, when he had one. He scowled. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about his past. Jack sighed as he unlocked the door and entered. Again, he was met with new furniture, furniture that smelled too pristine. He was used to it by now, but it felt especially depressing since his nostalgia kicked in a minute ago.

The Irishman went to the bedroom, and put down his duffle bag and guitar case. He quickly organized his small personal wardrobe, and then plopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a bit, before pulling out his phone. No new messages yet. He sighed and set it down next to him.

_Nothing to do… Probably should catch up on some sleep…_

 

* * *

 

 

Mark smiled as he sat in his little apartment, content. House rules we mostly the same as always. Keep the curtains closed, make minimal noise, and the like. However, the one thing different this one time was that he was allowed to go out. He had to have someone with him whenever he was out, but he was more than okay with that. Wade had explained that it was too public for his pursuers to try anything, since he was placed in a section of town that was busy, but not busy enough for a would-be assassin to blend in easily. Wade said he was going to drop by with one of his two designated bodyguards later in the day.

He jumped when he heard the doorbell ring. Mark bolted up from his couch, giddy with excitement, and checked the little screen displaying his visitors. He saw Wade, who was blocking another man behind him. Wade gave him the ok, and Mark quickly opened the door.

“Hey Mark,” Wade said with a big grin. Mark smiled a wide grin in return as he stepped inside and motioned for Wade. The man stepped in, but kept the door ajar a bit.

“I think the two of you might be already acquainted.”

With that, Wade waved to whoever was outside.

“Hey… Mark.”

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Tyler!”

Mark ran forward as he whispered in disbelief. He leapt and wrapped his arms and legs around his old friend. He was sobbing now.

“Hey bud…” Tyler said as he patted Mark’s head, “It’s been a while.”

Tyler waddled awkwardly to the couch, with the sobbing mess that is Mark still attached to him. He was overwhelmed, extremely so. This was so much better than he ever anticipated. First he was in his hometown, then he’s told that he can go outside, and now his best childhood friend shows up.

After Mark finally was able to recollect himself, he realized that he had no idea why Tyler was here. He looked up at Tyler quizzically.

“Why am I here, right?”

Mark simply nodded with watery eyes.

“I’m one of your bodyguards.”

“Wait, what?” Mark blurted out. It was true that Tyler was a police the last he heard about him, but his presence shouldn’t be known to people with such low governmental clearance.

“I… joined the FBI after you went under. A happy coincidence I supposed. The director thought that it would be good for you to see a familiar face when they relocated you here, so, here I am.”

Tyler raised his arms and shrugged. Mark let out a little chuckle. He could always count on Tyler to be so… whelmed. Underwhelmed? Certainly not overwhelmed. Mark shook his head, clearing his random thoughts. Tyler’s casualness set him at ease, making him forget that there were people that wanted him dead.

“Well, you ready to go someplace?” Tyler started, “You must be itching to get some fresh air finally.”

Mark eagerly nodded. Unable to contain his excitement, he quickly ran to his room and switched into something that suited better.

Tyler led the way as the two walked out. Mark’s smile couldn’t get any bigger than it already was. He was finally able to roam free. Well, relatively speaking at least.

“So just some things to keep in mind.”

Tyler chatted idly as the two walked around the store fronts. Mark wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, so he contented himself with just simply being able to walk around again.

“We generally won’t eat out, since you know there’s some risk factors that are a bit trickier to look out for.”

Mark nodded.

“And we stick together, no matter what, when you’re outside. Only go alone with me, Wade, or Aaron, your other bodyguard that you’ll meet soon. And…”

Mark was still listening, but with much less attention now. It was only early January, so there was still snow on the ground, and the trees were barren, but Mark was more than content.

 

* * *

 

 

It was near 4 PM when Jack woke up. He stretched and yawned, feeling a bit more rested. The Irishman got up and went to the kitchen. He was dying for a cup of coffee right now. Looking around, he cursed mentally. He had just gotten here, meaning that he had no groceries, which meant that he had no coffee. Quickly, he put on his jacket and a baseball cap and headed out.

Jack walked briskly as he pulled up the nearest coffee shop, not really wanting to . He shivered, annoyed that his jacket wasn’t as thick as he thought it was. Thankfully, the nearest coffee shop was just a block away. He entered through the doors and quickly placed his order, not wanting to delay his daily intake of dirty bean water any longer.

The Irishman received his order, and started to head back out. His phone buzzed, which prompted Jack to look down, when-

“Oof!”

Jack’s coffee spilled all over him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Jack looked up, only to be met by apologetic chocolate eyes. Damn, they were cute.

“Are you okay?” said a warm, deep voice that could only have belonged to whoever was staring at his right now. Jack almost had to do a double take, as he realized that he was staring straight at his target: Mark Fischbach. He felt seconds pass. He had to do something. Jack gave a curt nod, trying to not pay attention to the scalding coffee that had now permeated his jacket and shirt.

“I-I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Mark said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck now. A cute little detail.

_Wait… did I just call him cute?_

“You’re fine,” Jack said quickly, still a bit stunned that he was face-to-face with who he was supposed to kill. There was another man behind Mark, presumably a body guard or something fo the like. The Irishman just stared, not knowing what to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Mark took in the details of the stranger that he had just accidentally ran into. The man had dark brown hair, obscured a bit under a black cap, and stormy blue eyes that were unbelievably captivating. His pale, handsome face was dusted with some light facial hair. He had a black jacket on top of a grey shirt with a large coffee stain on it. Speaking of which…

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” he said, fumbling over his words as he quickly grabbed some napkins and awkwardly hovered them above the stain. He didn’t want to just _put_ his hands on the strapping stranger, as much as the monkey part of his brain screamed for him to. The stranger took the napkins from his hands. Their hands lightly brushed against each other, sending a tingling sensation through Mark. He just awkwardly watched as the stranger dabbed the napkins on his drenched shirt.

“U-Uh, I’m sorry…” Mark said again. Then, a thought crossed his mind. “C-Can I buy you another drink?”

The stranger looked up at Mark, and Mark could’ve sworn that hesitation briefly flashed on the stranger’s face. Mark was mentally cursing himself for being so stupid, when he heard the stranger speak.

“Um, sure.”

Mark’s face lit up.

“I’ll be, um, right back,” the stranger said. Mark nodded an acknowledgement, and watched the stranger quickly go into the bathroom. He smiled, mentally hi-fiving himself. A cough sounded behind him. He had totally forgotten about Tyler’s presence. Mark turned to see Tyler with a smug smile across his face.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

Mark felt his face heat up.

“D-Do not!”

Tyler let out a resounding laugh.

“Dude, I’ve known you since like, fifth grade!”

Mark puffed his cheeks, embarrassed.

“Can I give him my number?” Mark said in a hushed voice.

Tyler stared for a second, probably contemplating just how dangerous that would be. Finally, he shrugged.

“I mean, I guess…”

Mark would’ve jumped and squealed in glee if he hadn’t had more self-control. Instead, he felt a wide smile spread across his face.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said in an excited whisper to Tyler, who gave him a half-hearted smile. He was probably still worried whether this was a good choice or not.

Mark head a door close, and turned back around to see the stranger walking back towards them. His jacket was zipped up now, and he held his coffee-stained shirt in one hand. Mark tried his best to not let his mind wander, but he prayed so hard that the coffee shop would suddenly turn its thermostat up, forcing the stranger to unzip his jacket a bit.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack felt a bit uncomfortable as Mark stared at him. He swore that Mark was undressing him with his eyes. Had this been a few more years ago, he might’ve actually blushed. He cleared his throat, trying to get Mark’s attention, which worked, because Mark blinked a few times and looked back up at him.

“S-So, what would you like?” Mark asked.

Jack gave a small smile, trying to appear as normal as possible in front of his target.

“It was just an americano.”

“Like… plain americano?” he heard Mark ask quizzically, “Are you sure you don’t want something that’s not… like, super bitter?”

The Irishman felt himself give a little laugh.

“No. A plain americano is fine,” he said with a little smile.

Mark’s face visibly reddened.

“U-Uh, yeah, okay!” he sputtered.

Jack stared at his would-be target intently. Was he just imagining things, or did it seem like Mark was into him? Mark only almost jumped as he probably realized that they were just staring at each other.

“I’ll go get it now, yeah,” Mark said with a laugh. _Kind of a nice laugh._ Jack mentally slapped himself. He watched the brunette awkwardly walk to the barista and order. After a second, Mark turned back, obviously a bit distressed. Jack cocked an eyebrow, but walked towards him anyways.

“Y-Your name,” Mark said shyly, “I forgot to ask for your name.”

A grin found its way onto Jack’s face, and this time he let out a laugh that he would only dare to in private.

“It’s Jack.”

The other man quickly turned to the barista and gave them Jack’s name. The two shuffled to the side, getting out of the way of everyone else in line. Mark had turned his attention back to Jack now.

“Hi Jack! I’m Mark!” he said, offering his hand. Jack shook his hand, paying special attention to the discontent on Mark’s companion’s face. The man was obviously trained to contain his emotions like Jack, but he’s gotten good at reading people over the years.

_Probably should keep my distance._

“Nice to meet you, Mark.”

“You from around here?”

For a split second, Jack was worried that his accent had slipped, but he realized that Mark was just trying to make small talk. He shook his head.

“I’m from Boston.”

“Oh, how long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

“Ah, I see…”

Another awkward silence settled between them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Shit shit shit._

Mark’s brain was racing. This was the most human interaction he’d had in a long time. He wanted to make a good impression, well as good as he could after knocking over the guy’s coffee and getting it all over him.

_All over him…_

Mark harshly silenced the annoying little voice in the back of his head. God, he really hadn’t had much for so long. He felt like he’d been reverted back to a teen going through puberty again. This Jack guy seemed friendly, but also cold and distant at the same time.

“S-So, what do you do?”

Jack turned his attention back to him, intense stormy blue eyes making Mark weak in the knees.

“I do freelance coding.”

“O-Oh that’s cool!”

Mark chewed his lips nervously. It seemed like Jack wasn’t interested.

“What about you?”

Mark’s heart leapt. The guy was reciprocating! Well, at least somewhat, right? He could’ve just continued to give Mark the cold shoulder, but he didn’t. _Oh shit._ What was he even going to say? He definitely didn’t plan this far ahead yet.

“W-Well, I quit my job a while back, and um… I’m just kind of taking it easy for a bit, before going back full swing, ya know?”

_Yeah sure, good enough._

“Oh, my old job was at a civil engineer firm! Forgot to mention that.”

The other man gave a curt nod and a cute little smile. Mark almost melted.

 

* * *

 

 

“Americano for Jack?” said the barista. Jack quickly went and got his coffee, and headed back to Mark.

An awkward cough came from the man that had accompanied Mark.

Again, Mark visibly jumped a bit, seemingly to have forgotten all about him. Jack flashed a grin, trying to be friendly, but not too friendly.

“O-Oh, right, I need to go soon!” Mark said, still stumbling over his own words.

“That’s alright,” Jack said with a reassuring smile.

Mark paused for a second, looking down at his shoes.

“C-Can I have your number?”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. Sounded like Mark did like him. He knew he should say yes, since that would give him access to Mark’s exact location, but a small part of him wanted to do it for different reasons. Was he starting to feel something for Mark? His supposed target?

“Yeah, sure,” Jack heard himself say before he had time to fully comprehend the situation. Mark visibly lighted up with glee. _Adorable._

Before he knew it, Mark’s phone was in his hand, and he was typing in his personal number. Partially to protect Mark’s identity, since his private phone was secured strongly, but also partially because it was starting to become a _personal_ thing. Jack finished and gave the phone back to Mark.

Mark looked down at his phone, presumably to check that Jack had typed in everything right.

“No last name?” Mark said, looking back up at Jack.

Jack simply winked.

“Guess you’ll have to find that out another time.”

Jack didn’t give his last name, since he knew Mark’s guards would most definitely try and look him up, and probably eventually figure out that Jack wasn’t actually who he was. He was Sean McLoughlin, the next top Irish mercenary in his long familial line.

“I’ll see you soon?” he heard Mark ask quizzically.

Jack just grinned and headed out the door of the coffee shop.

_This is taking a rather interesting turn…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh sorry if this one's quality's a bit subpar! I'm taking a chemistry course over the summer and its been frying my brain :P  
> Hope y'all enjoy the two finally meeting!
> 
> I'll probably edit this chapter to flow better later when I'm not dying lmao

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of this fic came from S9E3 of Criminal Minds: The Final Shot. Like I was super intrigued by the idea, and eventually this AU just kinda made its way into my head. I'm trying to get the stuff as accurate as I can, but research on this stuff isn't exactly... common, so some of the chapters may change as my research progresses!
> 
> It'd be lovely to get some comments for like, feedback cause ya know, this is my first published fic that actually is going places!
> 
> If I wasn't on the governmental hit list prior to this I'm 99% sure that I'm on there now lmao


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